


Paths Uncrossed

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Introspection, KinKuniKage Week, Kitagawa Daiichi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 16:28:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11809818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: Still poisoned by the blowup in middle school, Kindaichi Yuutarou treads gingerly toward his place in Aobajousai. However, a few words from a senpai change the way he thinks about the future.





	Paths Uncrossed

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Day 1 of kinkunikage week: Separation. It highlights the way Kindaichi relates to other people because of his failed player-to-player relationship with Kageyama, and how he goes about starting down a better path.

“ _I hate you_.”

It shocks Kindaichi, the ease with which such final and bitter words cross his lips, but he says them and every molecule in his fifteen-year-old body agrees with the sentiment as he spins on his heel and marches away from Kitagawa Daiichi Middle School and the boy who had ruined every scrap of good memories he might’ve taken away from the place.

Behind him, Kageyama is silent for a change. No harsh words but the ones flung by Kindaichi, and there is no hint of backlash on his expressionless face. At least, Kindaichi assumes it’s expressionless, because only a soulless devil can hear those words and not say _something_.

The clatter of the train tracks is too quiet today, insufficient to drown out the chorus of _ihatehimihatehimihatehim_ bouncing around in Kindaichi’s head as he heads home for the day. For the first time in his adolescent life, he can’t wait for school to start again just so he can go to Aobajousai, where life and school and setters make some damn _sense_. All he’ll do on his week off is stew about how Kageyama managed to ruin something else for him. Even Kunimi had said as much before they parted ways at the end of the day.

From his last stop, Kindaichi stalks down the sidewalk until he reaches his building, his shoulders feeling a hundred kilos lighter as soon as he walks through the threshold of his apartment. The sights of home, however, still aren’t enough to peel away his foul mood. Arms crossed, jaw clenched, Kindaichi stares out into the empty room.

It’s the tinny clatter of his phone on the kotatsu that snaps his angry trance, and Kindaichi nearly rejects the call in favor of stewing some more. However, the name on the caller ID is not one he thinks he could ever deny. Taking a deep breath, he answers, “Iwaizumi-san?”

“Uh, hey, Kindaichi,” Iwaizumi responds, his answer far too hesitant for the guy Kindaichi can’t picture with anything more than an unyielding sense of confidence. “We were going to do some practice over break, and Oikawa and I thought you and Kunimi might want to join us to kill some time until school starts.”

Kindaichi nearly reels with the sheer normalcy of the request, an impromptu summons from a senpai he likes to work on making the starting squad for a sport he’s almost forgotten how to love. His skin itches almost as he fights the urge to refuse outright, his bruised will attempting to spread its paranoia that it’s a trap and that Kageyama will be there to flatten him again.

But Iwaizumi has always looked out for Kindaichi, for all of them — even for his own captain — so he schools his trembling voice to squeak out a tepid, “Sure, I can come. No promises for Kunimi, though. He likes his extra sleep.”

Iwaizumi chuckles. “Yeah, I figured, so that’s why I called you. It’ll be great to see you again, dude. I miss you guys.”

Kindaichi quickly ends the call, unable to trust himself not to dwell on those last couple of words. _You guys_ , Iwaizumi had said. Not just Kindaichi, and very possibly not just him and Kunimi; there is another hole in the lineup of beloved kouhai, one that had been filled the last time they were all on a team together. Back before everything got so fucked up and _hard_.

While Oikawa had never cared for the guy, Kageyama had always been Iwaizumi’s favorite. Every day, they stayed late practicing serves and receives and spikes together while their team captain worked himself to death in the next gym honing a jump serve that frankly scared a young and impressionable Kindaichi. Instead, he had been drawn to watching this boy even younger than himself practicing with the strongest and coolest person Kindaichi had ever known, working with a harmony that seniority would never allow otherwise.

Was Kindaichi jealous of it? Of course; who wouldn’t be. Yet he forced himself to watch the two of them mingle, with Iwaizumi patiently answering every one of Kageyama’s stuttered questions until he didn’t stutter anymore.

He almost hits redial to call the whole thing off.

Forcing himself to take a few calming breaths, Kindaichi texts Kunimi and asks if he wants to practice, not bothering to entreat the solid negative he receives in lieu of passing the word along to Iwaizumi.

So thus a long weekend begins, but Kindaichi believes having something to look forward to will make it go that much quicker.

 

Kindaichi can’t _wait_ to sweat. Dozens of laps run around the block cannot substitute the way playing volleyball makes his entire body ache almost pleasurably after a good workout. After only a few days off, his limbs feel dumb and heavy and they scream to be used. He nearly runs to the school, only to think better of it just because it’s far quicker to traverse seven kilometers by bus than by foot.

He’s been to Aobajousai more than once, but each time, the scope of it takes Kindaichi’s breath away. The only reason he gets to so much as step foot into a place like this is because of his volleyball. His grades would certainly never earn him a recommendation, and his mother definitely could not pay his way into such a pricey private school. But this school is his now, and with it a new start in volleyball and in his regular life, as well.

The club room is easy to find; loud pop music spills from it, along with terrible singing he’d know anywhere. It tugs a smile onto his face as he heads up the stairs.

A raucous round of greetings meets him as he enters, with many familiar faces belonging to former teammates and a few more he’ll have to learn. But the one he wants to see the most is heading toward him to pull him into a bracing hug. “C’mere, you friggin beanpole.”

He returns Iwaizumi’s gesture of affection in full measure and basks in the soothing feeling that this impenetrable guy will be his shield and source of his mental strength for an entire year. When they part, there are a few catcalls from a couple of guys sitting near Oikawa, who Kindaichi assumes are third years judging by their relaxed dispositions, but there was nothing but welcome for Kindaichi in this room.

Iwaizumi claps him on the shoulder and cocks his head toward the door. “You got a minute?”

They head outside and move away from the door until they’re sitting on the steps. Without preamble, Iwaizumi asks, “So, you wanna tell me what happened?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard all kinds of stuff,” Kindaichi spits, not having to ask whether Iwaizumi is referring to _that_ day. “Everyone’s got something to say about it.”

Shaking his head, Iwaizumi drums his thumbs on his knees. “Nah. I know the events, but I guess I need to know if you’re gonna be ready.” He reaches up and taps his forefinger against Kindaichi’s temple. “Up there.”

His shoulders sagging a little, Kindaichi sighs and admits, “It was so fucked up. We were all trying so hard, and none of it was ever good enough. One mistake would set him off, and I —” His voice cracks and he shivers despite the warm April air. “I don’t know if I even know how to have fun anymore.”

Iwaizumi is silent for a lot longer than Kindaichi finds comfortable, long enough for his brain to run away with itself and imagine all the ways he’ll be denied the chance to start over because he didn’t finish the last time. But when Iwaizumi speaks, Kindaichi’s head whips around so he can gape at his senpai.

“Yeah, I get that. I used to feel that way about Oikawa.” He let out a humorless laugh as he plucked at the hem of his shorts. “I knew him before volleyball and we were friends, but once he got a ball in his hand and stepped onto the court, I didn’t know him at all. He turned into an annoying, demanding, self-centered son of a bitch and I wanted to snap his friggin neck.”

Blinking at the onslaught of disharmony from the previously unshakable bond between Iwaizumi and Oikawa, Kindaichi couldn’t help but ask, “Then what happened?”

“We beat the crap out of each other and got over it.” Rolling up his sleeve, Iwaizumi turns over his bicep to show a dulled crescent-shaped scar. “Fucker bit me.” At Kindaichi’s aghast expression, he chuckles. “Oh, we were fine after that. We just needed to talk in a way that didn’t use words. Then we figured our shit out and we clicked.”

The thought of stooping down to the level of brawling, even with Kageyama, sends a shudder of distaste through Kindaichi. “I wanna punch him, but not that bad.”

“Well, good, because I was going to let you know I really don’t recommend it.” He absently scratches at the scar under his arm and frowns. “But you’re never going to be the player you can be until you work stuff out. He will because he’s a genius and that’s what geniuses do, but you won’t. You’re too much like me.” He lists over and bumps his shoulder against Kindaichi’s. “Too much heart and not enough head.”

Kindaichi opens his mouth to refute, but his jaw snaps closed because he knows there is nothing he can say to drown out the ring of truth in Iwaizumi’s words. Nobody on his team had carried the grudge against Kageyama as far and as long as Kindaichi. To his knowledge, their former teammates had all but forgotten the guy by the end of the school year, and he has a suspicion the only reason Kunimi brings the matter up at all is because he grows weary of waiting for Kindaichi to do it.

“What do I do?”

The request was quiet and meek, a stark contrast of Kindaichi’s towering stature, but Iwaizumi’s broad grin shows the message has been received loud and clear. “You kick his ass on the court, that’s what.” He jabs his thumb behind him in the direction of the club room. “Those guys back there will lay out everything they’ve got to win a game. Not just because Oikawa makes them, but because they want to win more than pretty much anyone I’ve ever met. Go back there and let them be your new normal.

“Mattsun’s the smartest middle blocker I’ve ever met, and Makki will stick with a shot long past when most people would let it drop. Yahaba watches everything and isn’t afraid to point out something that isn’t working.” He harrumphs. “Oh, yeah, and Oikawa’s ten times the player he was in middle school, so watch out for his fat head and remember he’s there to help you.”

Hugging his knees, Kindaichi shakes his head. “But how am I supposed to do all that when I have to get rid of my beef with Kageyama first?”

“This is your chance to fuck up as many times as you have to in order to grow. You’re gonna miss tosses and blocks and serves, but no one’s going to say a damned thing because you have more relearning to do than any of them.” Iwaizumi stands and offers a hand to Kindaichi, who accepts it. “But you have more potential than any of the first years, and I’m going to do my best to make sure you get there.”

Iwaizumi tugs Kindaichi to his feet, and as they stand side by side a few steps from the top, Kindaichi marks that either Iwaizumi is shorter than he remembers or perhaps Kindaichi is standing a little bit taller. On that note, they head back for the club room and start a new chapter in Kindaichi’s volleyball career, and even in his life.

* * *

Across the net, a vaguely familiar shorty talks up a storm as they all brace themselves for the first serve of the game. Kindaichi looks over toward Iwaizumi, who gives him a brief nod before facing forward, and he knows this is it.

It won’t be the end of his journey, but Kindaichi knows this is the start of it. Today is the day he starts to redefine himself and his volleyball, and against Kageyama, no less. He might not get there today, their diverged paths will cross again and when they do, Kindaichi will be ready.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the story, and that it was insightful when it comes to how Kindaichi handled his transition from his old, broken team to his chance at a fresh start. Also, it was written in an hour and a half in the middle of the night, so be kind to me. x.x


End file.
